by Becky Durfee
Jenny blushed. “You did that for me?”
“Yup.” Zack was clearly pleased with himself.
“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Zack locked eyes with Jenny, and they looked at each other longer than they should have. “I will say,” he eventually continued, “you should probably get changed in my bedroom. If Little Zack sees you naked, it’ll be all over, and that’s not what tonight is about.”
“Little Zack doesn’t want to come out and play?” Jenny felt a twinge of disappointment.
“You were unresponsive on the floor an hour ago. I think tonight we should pass. Tonight you’re here so I can keep an eye on you and get you some help if you need it.”
Jenny felt a strange mixture of dissatisfaction and happiness. She had liked the idea of Zack finding her irresistible, but she knew logically that this was even better. The fact that he was willing to spend the night with her for the sole purpose of making sure she was okay was evidence that he genuinely cared about her.
Although, that concept was frightening.
Stop thinking, Jenny commanded herself. Why must you over-analyze everything? Just enjoy it. “Well, then,” Jenny said, “I guess I should go put on these comfy clothes.”
“That’s the spirit,” Zack said. “Do you want me to fix you something to eat while you’re changing?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. That’s not what I asked. Would you like me to fix you something?”
Jenny was actually a little bit hungry. In an uncharacteristically self-serving move, she replied, “You know what? That’d be great.”
“How does frozen pizza sound?”
Jenny smiled. “Perfect.”
Jenny sat cross-legged in her oversized sweats, taking another piece of pizza. “Thanks for having me here. It is nice to not be alone tonight.”
“My pleasure,” Zack replied.
“I have to admit I am able to enjoy this a little bit more now that I’ve told Greg I want a divorce. The only thing that would make it better is if he believed me.”
“Well that’s his problem.”
“His problem that becomes my problem.” She took a bite. “I figure that once this case is solved, which is hopefully soon, I’ll get a lawyer and serve him with papers. Then maybe he’ll believe me.”
“Are you worried that he’s going to want to take half your money?”
“In a word?” Jenny replied. “Yes. But I’ve already thought of that. Even if he does take half the money, I’ll still have enough to get by for the rest of my life. I don’t plan to live extravagantly, and if I invest the money, I can live largely off the interest.
“I will say that I don’t want him to get half the money, simply on principle,” she continued. “It’s not like I’m greedy and I want to keep it all for myself. It would just kind of suck that Greg gave me such a hard time about working on Elanor’s case, and then when it results in a windfall, he gets to keep half of it. He doesn’t deserve half of it. He doesn’t deserve any of it.”
“I agree.”
“But if that’s the price I have to pay for my freedom, I’ll pay it. No sense losing sleep over it.” Jenny took another bite of pizza. “The one thing I am losing sleep over, though, is telling my parents.”
“You haven’t told them?”
“Nope. And I don’t know how I’m going to, either. They’re thick-and-thin, til-death-do-us-part kind of people. I don’t think they’re going to be all that receptive to the idea. Throw in the fact that my father has heart problems—and has for years—I really, really don’t want to tell him.”
“I know how that goes,” Zack confessed.
“Oh yeah,” Jenny said, giving him a nudge with her foot, “did you tell your father that you quit?”
“I did.”
“And how did that go?”
Zack shrugged. “About like you’d expect. He actually called me to ask me where I was, and I told him I wasn’t coming in anymore. He went on and on about what an irresponsible piece of shit I am, and he asked how I planned to get by. I didn’t tell him about this job; I just told him I’d manage. He doesn’t need to know how I plan to get by, first of all. I’m almost thirty. And as far as I’m concerned he doesn’t deserve to know what I do with my life. Not after calling me a piece of shit.
“And honestly,” Zack continued, “I don’t think he’d have any respect for what we do anyway. It’s too vague, you know? He builds houses. Every afternoon there’s concrete proof that he’d put in a hard days’ work. He’d call this cream puff, hocus pocus kind of shit, I guarantee it.” He made a dismissive gesture. “He’s one of the most narrow-minded people I know.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I think he’d probably be happier if Orlowski was his son, as long as he built houses in between killings.”
Jenny chuckled at the preposterousness of the thought. “That’s awful.”
“Awful, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.”
Jenny hugged her leg into her chest. After a moment of reflection, she posed, “What do you think it was like for Orlowski growing up? Do you think his father was a hard-ass?”
Zack shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s a good question.”
“I can’t imagine what could possibly possess someone to follow this path in life. Was it abuse? Is his wiring just messed up?”
“I think that’s the million dollar question. People have been trying to figure that out for centuries. If we knew what caused it, we could stop it.” Zack thought about his own words. “Potentially.”
“What’s weird to me is that he is able to function so normally in society. How can somebody appear so…regular…and then have this horrible dark side? And how is he able to keep it hidden?”
“Did you ever hear of that BTK guy? That Bind-Torture-Kill guy who killed all those people in Kansas?” Zack posed, snapping his fingers. “What was his name?”
“Dennis Rader.”
Zack looked impressed. “Okay, how did you know that?”
“I was a teacher.” Jenny tapped her temple. “And teachers are smart, remember?”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Maybe.”
“I admire that.” he replied. “Anyway, BTK was, like, the most normal guy in the world. He was married with kids, not to mention a boy scout leader, a leader in his church…and a twisted serial killer. People were shocked to find out it was him. I do think I remember hearing that he harbored these sick thoughts from a very young age; he was just able to mask them well when necessary.”
“Do you think that’s why Orlowski became a cop?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Jenny said with a sigh, trying to come up with the most concise explanation she could. “Did you ever wonder why some priests molest children? In one of my psychology classes we discussed that being a priest doesn’t cause you to molest children, but people who are inclined to molest children often become priests. They figure if they just swear off their sexuality altogether, they will be able to fight off their demons. However, sometimes the demons win out, and the result is a child-molesting priest. Maybe Orlowski had a similar line of thinking—become the opposite of what his sick urges were telling him to be. Become a crusader for good, not evil.
“But there’s another side to the coin, too. Sometimes these sickos become priests, little-league coaches—cops—because it puts them in a position of trust. It allows them unsupervised access to children, and the parents are completely unaware that they’ve entrusted their little ones to a monster. It could be that Orlowski specifically chose this career because he knew people would trust him, and they would put themselves in vulnerable positions around him.”
“Either way he’s a sick bastard,” Zack surmised. “And I want him to rot in hell, even if he did choose to be a cop in an attempt to fight his demons.”
“I wish I knew why he had these demo
ns in the first place.” Jenny tucked her hair behind her ear and rested her chin on her knee. “Do you believe in God, Zack?”
“Do I believe in God?” Zack repeated. “Is ‘I don’t know’ an acceptable answer?”
“I think it’s my answer,” Jenny confessed.
“The reason I’m not sure is because I’m a lazy sack of shit and I’ve never really given it that much thought.” He took a sip of soda. “So why are you on the fence?”
With another sigh, Jenny said, “Because of people like Orlowski. I was raised Catholic, and I never really questioned it before, but now I can’t help but wonder why—if there is a God—He would make the Orlowskis and the Raders and the Bundys of the world. Does He screw up? I thought God was supposed to be omniscient. I would think the world would be a much better place if there was really a kind-hearted, all-powerful being up there supervising everything.”
“Maybe one of your contacts will be able to clue you in,” Zack said without judgment.
“Maybe,” Jenny said solemnly. “But I think the answer is on the other side, and once the spirits cross over, I don’t hear from them again.”
“But at least you do know there is peace after you die. And you can be with your loved ones again.”
Jenny smiled. “Yes, that’s true. Maybe this life is a practice run. A try-out. Most of us pass, but the Orlowskis of the world fail, and they get separated. They end up in hell, while the rest of us enjoy heaven.”
“Be careful, there,” Zack said. “I’m not sure which way I’m headed.”
With a laugh, Jenny asked, “Are there any bodies buried in your back yard?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then I think you’re fine.”
Chapter 15
Jenny looked at the clock in her car. Five-thirty. It must have been dinner time.
She dialed her phone. “Hey Zack,” she said, “I’ve been led to Billy’s again.”
“You’re there now?”
“In the parking lot. I haven’t gone in yet.”
“It’s in Braddock, right?” Jenny could hear Zack moving around. “I can be there in half an hour. Don’t go in until I get there.”
“Can’t promise that,” she said. “If he is in there, I don’t know how much longer it will be before he leaves. I don’t want to miss him because I’m sitting out here waiting for you.”
“Shit, Jenny,” Zack said. “Okay. I guess you should go in…but be careful.”
“Remember,” Jenny said as she fixed her hair in the rear view mirror. “When you do get here, you can’t go in. He knows you now. You’ll have to wait in the parking lot.”
“Alright.” The wheels were clearly turning in Zack’s head. “I’ll send you a text when I get there. Don’t leave before then.”
“Make sure the text is innocuous.”
“English, please.”
Jenny would have laughed if she wasn’t so focused. “Make sure the text is innocent…about something trivial. I’ll understand what it means.”
“Okay, got it. And Jenny? Be careful.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“You haven’t agreed.”
“Okay, I’ll be careful.” Jenny smiled at his concern. “I’ll be waiting for your text.”
Jenny once again approached Orlowski as he sat alone at the bar. Swallowing her disgust, she cheerfully called, “Hey, stranger. Is this seat taken?”
Orlowski looked over his shoulder. “Hey,” he replied, immediately lighting up. “If it isn’t the fainter.”
“Ha ha,” she said playfully. “Very funny.”
“Are you okay? You scared us all last night.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Remembering Zack’s explanation, she added, “I just have low blood sugar is all. It happens from time to time if I don’t eat enough.” She climbed up onto the bar stool and plopped her purse on the counter. “And with all the stress that I’m under, I’m not eating like I should.”
“Oh yeah,” he replied. “Divorce. I’ve been there. It sucks.”
“It sure does.” Jenny asked the bartender for a menu.
“If it makes you feel any better, being divorced is much better than divorc-ing. Once you move out, or your husband moves out, it’s a million times better.”
Ain’t that the truth. “I hope so. It’s hard to live with a man I can barely stand.”
“I remember those days, and I don’t envy you,” Orlowski remarked. With a chuckle, he then added, “Although, when I moved out I moved back in with my mother. That wasn’t exactly ideal either.”
“Moving back in with my parents is not an option,” Jenny declared.
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, it’s not that it’s bad, necessarily. They just live in a different state.” Jenny grinned flirtatiously. “That, and I haven’t told them yet.”
Orlowski made a face, causing Jenny to elaborate.
“They’re firm believers that marriage is forever. They’re not going to take it very well when I tell them we’re thinking about splitting up.” Jenny braced herself for the pain she’d endure, and then she nudged Orlowski with her elbow. “Come on, you must have had a tough time telling your folks, too.” Her skin burned from the contact.
“Not at all, actually.” He took a bite. “My dad’s been dead for a long time, and my mother is on husband number six.”
“Six?” Jenny asked with disbelief.
“Yup. Six. So she can’t exactly say anything to me when my first and only marriage didn’t work out.”
Images of Orlowski’s childhood started to form in Jenny’s head.
“And let me tell you,” Orlowski continued as he chewed his food, “each of my mother’s husbands was worse than the one before.”
“Really?”
He shook his head. “It was ridiculous. She’d finally break free from one asshole scumbag, only to turn around and marry another one. It’s like she never learned. And it only got worse after I became a cop. Seriously, how does it look when you’re a law enforcement officer and your mother is married to a guy with a criminal record?”
He seemed bitter.
“So I imagine you were shuffled around a lot as a kid.” Jenny noted.
“At first I was,” Orlowski explained. “But then husband number three died, leaving my mother with enough life insurance for her to buy a house outright. Mind you, it wasn’t a glamorous house or anything, but she owned it. After that we stayed put, and the men came in and out.” He let out a snort. “She should have installed a revolving door.”
Something clicked inside Jenny’s brain, and unfortunately she must not have masked it well. “Are you okay?” Orlowski asked. “You don’t look right all of a sudden.”
“It’s the blood sugar,” Jenny replied. That seemed to be a convenient answer for everything.
“Hey, Seth,” Orlowski called to the bartender. “Bring her a Coke, would you?”
Within a few seconds a soda appeared in front of Jenny, and she drank it down quickly. The cold felt good to her. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve really got to start eating better.”
“Or go to a doctor. That’s really not good. What if you pass out at the wheel?”
“I keep a soda in the car.” Jenny was impressed with her ability to lie. “If I start to feel funny, I pull over and drink it. It’s worked every time so far.”
“It’s still scary,” Orlowski declared. “I don’t want to respond to a call one of these days and find out it’s you with your car wrapped around a tree.”
Jenny smiled. “Aren’t you sweet? But I assure you, I’m fine.” Jenny ordered a plate of fries from the bartender and turned back to Orlowski. “So, tell me, what brought you down here from Connecticut?”
“Well, it wasn’t a direct trip. I made a stop in New Jersey for a couple of years first.”
And how many girls did you kill while you were there? “That sounds like it has a story behind it,” Jenny posed.
“You want to hear
it?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well, at first I just wanted to get out of Connecticut. Like I said, my marriage had shit the bed, and I was living with my mother and step-father. The first few weeks of living with them had been okay, but then I kind of had a falling out with my step-father. He essentially told me to get the hell away from him, and since it was his house I couldn’t really argue.”
“That’s a shame,” Jenny remarked. “What was the fight about?”
“Honestly, I’m not even really sure. It’s just like one day he woke up and decided he’d had enough of me.” Orlowski shook his head. “The man was a lunatic. I don’t know what else to say. But anyway, not only did my step-father start giving me hell, I also came down with a case of Lyme disease.”
“Lyme disease?”
“Yeah. You get it from deer ticks, which are all over the place in Connecticut. They’re so small that they’re difficult to see, but if you get bitten by one you get a red ring around the area. If you catch it quickly enough, you can avoid some of the more serious symptoms. Unfortunately for me, I got bitten on the back of my knee, so I couldn’t see the ring. I mean, really…how often do you look at the back of your knee?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever looked at the back of my knee.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “And it was winter time, so I wore pants all the time. No one else could see it either. So I ended up with a pretty bad case of Lyme. I got very sick.”
Jenny made a face but remained silent.
“So I thought to myself, you know what? Screw this. I figured these were all signs that I needed to get the hell out of Connecticut.” He leaned over to Jenny as if he was disclosing a secret. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Lyme disease is named after a town in Connecticut. That’s how common it is up there.”
“I didn’t know that,” Jenny replied, although she actually did.
“Yup. Lyme Connecticut.” Orlowski seemed proud of himself. “So anyway, I wanted to get out of Connecticut, but I was too sick to work. There was no way I could have supported myself. Right around that time the house I shared with my ex-wife sold, and we split the profit of it. It was enough money for me to move down to New Jersey and stay with one of my favorite step brothers—from marriage number four, I think.” Orlowski looked as if he was doing some math in his head before asking himself, “Was it marriage number four?” He shooed the thought away. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, my step brother had just gotten a divorce, too, and he was faced with potentially losing his home. I gave him some money, and he let me recover at his place. It was a win-win for us both.”